Happiness
by Serienjunkie 91
Summary: "And I know after having this realisation that sooner or later HE'd have seen the lack of real happiness in my eyes. Because HE knows me just a little too well." Little companion piece to 3x02 which wouldn't leave me alone. OneShot. Kind of JohnLocky.


Welcome to my FF.

Please be nice and enjoy the story. I'm not British and didn't have a beta Reader. So if you find any mistakes, you may keep them. =)

(No, please tell me about them.)

I'd like to hear what you're thinking.

This contains spoilers for 3x02. So please don't read if you don't want to be spoilered.

**Happiness**

# Smile –

A facial expression characterized by an upward curving of the corners of the mouth and indicating pleasure, amusement, or derision.

- The Free Dictionary

Well, in my case, it certainly is a smile. Meaning to show the two people in front of me that I'm happy.

It looks like one. At least I hope it does.

But as they are both reacting accordingly, it seems to be alright. Filing it away in my mind palace for later occasions where it might be needed.

Alright, mission accomplished, it looks like a real smile.

But for me, it doesn't feel like one. Or better: as one is supposed to feel while smiling.

What might be hidden is the realness of it all. It's an important day. And I wouldn't want to destroy it by my apparent lack of happiness. No, I definitely wouldn't want that to happen at any price.

No, it's all a fake.

So, as I told the happy couple my latest deduction. I smile.

And I'm feeling rather guilty for not … feeling it. Thoughts are running through my head - well, nothing special there – but they are not really positive. Doubts and trouble filling my mind. Making me feel as if they want to break free. Want to show themselves to the world- outing me: as not happy, about the news and everything else happening today.

But what good could come of this?!

I can't believe it. All the things running through my mind are rather pointless.

Emotions? Feelings? –

Bollocks.

How could this have happened? Annoying really. I'm rather happy Mycroft's not here to witness my lack of … coolness. Well my exterior is cool as ice, like always. But this thing in my head hurtling around like there's no tomorrow… unbelievable.

Wow. And now I sound like HIM typing away in his blog.

Romanticising everything. Always.

But that's just the way HE is. That's why I-

I halt my thoughts. Shocked what I was about to process.

Noooo. Definitely not going there.

Never going in this direction. Noo, no.

Down brain. Down thoughts.

Today was a … good day. HE seems to be so happy. Smiling like he's the king of everything.

Rather unnatural if you'd ask me.

But it suits him. HE seems to burst with positive energy. Kind of sickening for me. She's the same.

Good day. I've got to solve a murder. And it was not an easy case.

I'd expected the day to be dull, so my expectations weren't right for once. Fine.

But as I'm leaving the party heading away there isn't any happiness. Even if it was just superficial. But it was there. And now as the lights and sounds are filtering away. So is the happiness. Draining away like from a huge basin where you've pulled the plug.

I'm on my way to go home.

Well not really. If I'm honest with myself: I'm not going home.

I'd always seen Baker Street as home. Probably began some moment about 4 years ago. Home was always a place where I could think and organize my mind palace without interruption, could do any experiment I liked without anyone complaining, shooting smiley holes in the wall or playing the violin at 3 in the morning.

An apartment cluttered with my things and my skull. Home.

But something somewhere changed.

Since I've been back from my „hiatus" it just wasn't the same. And for some weeks I couldn't decipher what the problem was. The skull sat on the mantel of the fireplace, a head was in the fridge, my violin leaning under the window. Mrs Hudson, not being my housekeeper, had brought scones I'd probably never eat.

So what was the problem?

I felt like I had to solve a crime. Making deductions. But at this point I was rather lost. Everything was as always. Lying on the couch, I couldn't quite point out what the problem was.

Not even the nicotine patches got me anywhere.

I needed exactly 16 days, 2 hours and 43 minutes to solve the riddle.

What was different?

I noticed as I received a text:

Want to meet for tea? –JW

So. There was my difference.

This day I noticed that a home's not necessarily where your belongings are. Where you sleep – or not, and eat – or not, or do your experiments.

No. My home's no longer there.

HE's not there anymore.

Because of this I was currently on the way – not home – but to 221b Baker Street. The place where I lived.

As HE was probably just doing one of these insane party dances. Celebrating his vow to his new partner. But not partner in crime.

Partner in love and life.

And I know after having this realisation that sooner or later HE'd have seen the lack of real happiness in my eyes. Because HE knows me just a little too well.

At the moment, I'm trying not the think about the oncoming repercussions his decision, his vow will bring to me. And against all odds I just want to believe that everything will stay the same.

But my mind is just too damn clever into being tricked. I'd like to turn it off to be able to live in this dream world just a second longer. At least until they are about to be back from their honeymoon.

But it doesn't work like this.

The happiness's vanished. And probably won't be back. Ever.

So I can't kid myself concerning this matter. Everything will change. Better cope with it as soon as possible. Adjusting to this new old life.

Because I know that at the beginning they will put a lot work into it being the same. For me. Because that's just the way they are. But as soon as the baby's there, they won't need me anymore.

Better live with it now.

But it's hard.

What should I do now?! I'm not seriously considering Mycroft's plan on spending more time together.

I'd rather kill myself.

…

Well. That's a thought there…

…

No.

…

Couldn't. Well I certainly could as I've got not one thing to lose.

Already did that, apparently, two and a half years ago. At the fall.

But that would mean Moriarty having won. And at the moment it feels like my heart's been burnt out, even without him being here anymore.

No, that's not the point.

No, I simply wouldn't.

Because HE wouldn't be able to live with it. I'd cause HIM grief. And I'm not doing it, unless I can help it.

HE wouldn't forgive me another time for breaking his heart.

Taking away HIS happiness.

And HE's earned it sooo much.

Being happy and living the life HE always wanted. With a wife. And a baby.

Married. Happy. Content.

No. I wouldn't destroy it.

I'd rather suffer silently.

I was most of my life alone. Alone keeps me safe.

I'll cope.

Because everything else would mean destroying the happiness of the best man in the world.

I'll see HIM smiling. And this alone makes it all worth it.

And at this thought and the hope to be a tiny part of all of this, I smile.

Because one John Hamish Watson has in my opinion the privilege to happiness.

If anyone deserves it, it's him.


End file.
